Trapped: Tanks for a Good Time
by willwrite4fics
Summary: First in a series of Trapped stories. BeachHead is having a bad day, and gets trapped in a wrecked tank with CoverGirl. Will they murder each other before they're rescued, or cook to death first?
1. Chapter 1

This will begin a series of stories, all about various Joe's being trapped in various places. Have a suggestion for a place, or a pair(or trio), please don't hesitate to PM! Before you PM!!! I WILL be doing SnakeEyes/Scarlett, so don't bother suggesting that pairing, but you CAN suggest a place for it!

This one is BeachHead and CoverGirl(naturally! My fav), and yes.. in Real Life, Corp. CoverGirl would never get away with hitting Sgt Major BeachHead.. but this is GI Joe, and the ladies tend to get away with a LOT, and the Joes are pretty relaxed about most all the regs, so don't bother with telling me she wouldn't get to smack him. Oh.. and having been IN a tank, yes, I already KNOW that there would not be enough room to stand even crouched, but I'm taking some liberties with the inside dimensions(as the comics and cartoons do often also). It IS a 4 man crew by the Order of Battle info, so it's gotta have some room inside.

I looked up a bunch of different GI Joe vehicles and the MOBAT is the tallest tank, with a turret and topside hatch. The real tank does have a control turret but you can also control it from inside, so I fudged a bit about that too. CoverGirl is driving from the inside(who in their right mind would put a driver out on top of a tank without protection anyway? What's the point of having armor and driving it from OUTSIDE the armor? Crazy!).

Anyway.. with all this forward, you probably went to sleep.. so here's some disclaimer stuff... Hasbro owns them, not me, I don't make any money, but I hope that Hasbro makes tons so they'll keep writing the comics and making the toys. It's a work of fiction, and I hope everyone enjoys it as my way to show how much I appreciate the GI Joe universe.

Annnnnnd, On to the fic! Please enjoy, and thank you for reading!

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He was having a really bad day. The battle was pretty much over, but it took place in the stupid desert, so all the equipment was either overheating or jamming with sand. Once he was back at the Pit, he would end up spending a week on paperwork, with every spare moment in the armory cleaning the grit out of weapons, not to mention the armor.

Stupid Greenshirt Private Williams had stumbled and almost fallen into a blast crater, and BeachHead had to grab his arm, try to stop the fall. Instead, he'd ended up in the crater as well, and it was the sergeant major who landed on the shrapnel.. not the hapless Williams, who managed to land on top of him. Just to add insult to injury, Williams had also dropped his rifle, which followed them down a few seconds later to nail BeachHead just over his right ear. He'd booted Williams back to the rear guard, bandaged up his own leg and taken a gunner position in a AWEStriker to keep track of everything, until Goon drove them into a landmine strewn area, and he'd taken a fall into the side of a sand dune, narrowly missing getting crushed by the overturned vehicle. Goon was sent hoofing it back with a hastily bandaged arm while Beach decided to just head to the command area on foot.

BeachHead limped to a stop on his way up yet another sand dune when the MOBAT rumbled up next to him. CoverGirl flipped the hatch open and gave him a wave.

"Heeey... you need a lift, handsome?" He shot her the finger and she laughed. "Beach! Get in!"

He hesitated only a minute, the battlefield was deserted here, and there was no reason he couldn't ride to the staging area, there was nothing further to do here. It was ungodly hot out in the sand, why they always had to fight in summer deserts evaded him. And his darned leg hurt.

Climbing up on the MOBAT, he felt it lurch back into gear the instant both of his feet were off the ground. He managed to not fall off by grabbing on tightly and cursing loudly. Either the cursing or grabbing kept him on the tank and he dropped in through the open hatch and dogged it shut behind him.

CoverGirl tilted her head back to grin at him. "Hey.. what'd you do to your leg?"

"Fell on a bomb. It's fine." She scowled at him as he got settled into the gunner's seat in the back. "It quit bleeding and everything, so it's fine. You headed to the staging area?" She nodded. "Good, I gotta report in to Hawk."

"Stubborn man. Why not call for a evac? Were you gonna hobble all the way across the sand dunes to command?" He grunted at her. "One day you're gonna have a limb fall right off your body, and you'll snort and say 'ahh, I'll walk it off'." He gave a short laugh at that. "Did you SEE those HISS tanks today? They're getting decent drivers for them. Just about scary."

"Yeah, right. You still drive circles around them." Beach peeled the torn leg of his pants back and glanced at the bandage. It looked fine, so he left it alone. The inside of the tank was already hot and he pulled his mask off, tucking it into the thigh pocket of his BDUs. "Danged hot."

CoverGirl agreed. "Yeah.. these MOBAT aren't made for driver comfort either. No air conditioning, and they act like a blasted oven out here. Why can't we fight in shady warm areas for once?" She got answered with another snort. "You're just a chatterbox today, aren't you?"

"I'm hot." He settled in where he could see her heads-up display. It was only a couple miles now, and he could be out where there was moving air. He didn't know how the tank jockeys put up with the stifling conditions on a regular basis. "You got water?"

"Sure.. get my canteen, it's right there." She motioned to one side at her gear pack buckled into the cargo net.

"Don't want any, have you been drinking enough?" He grabbed at a pipe on the wall as the tank lurched to the right then whipped back into level only to tilt forward without warning. "Dang it, woman! What are you doing? Driving over every crater and dune there is?"

She gave him one of those scathing looks that wilted normal men, and only made him raise an eyebrow. "I'm driving to command.. you did want to get there today, right? Just hang on to something." They smacked into the trough of a set of dunes and BeachHead flew out of the seat, bringing himself to a stop by agilely smashing headfirst into the front console. "GEEZ!! Beach!? You okay? You didn't break my gauges did you?" He staggered back, feeling at his nose and using his tongue to check that he didn't need to go looking for any of his teeth.

"Nice to see you asked about me BEFORE your precious gauges there, Princess." He got back into the seat and hooked an arm around the support brace. She had already rumbled halfway up the slope of sand, reaching out to tap the gauge he'd whacked with his chin.

"Wipe the blood off that one.. is my oil pressure okay?" She used the edge of a sleeve to clear the gauge. "Nah.. it's fine.. running a big high, but that's the heat out here." She turned in the seat to quickly look him over. "Your nose is bleeding."

"Sorry.. I'll try not to bleed on anything important."

"You're such a hardass. I asked if you were okay.. you don't gotta act like I did it on purpose." He grunted at that. "Well, I didn't! You should have hung on better."

"Just shut it and drive. I'm sure there's a cliff or something you might be missing driving over right now." He wiped his face clear of blood. It wasn't serious, just a bloody nose, but now his face and leg were both sore, and he was still hot. "Keep a watch out.. might be a big hole you won't get to drive into if you don't pay attention."

"BeachHead.. I'm gonna stop this tank and make you get out and walk if you don't shut up." She spared a hand to shake a finger at him in a stern warning.

He smirked. "I'd love for you to try it."

Before she could retort, an alarm beeped twice. "Crud! Rattler.. coming in fast.. two-o'clock high.. "

He scrambled. "You still armed here?" Instead of replying, she keyed in the weapons sequence, and brought the display up on the second console. "Got it.." He settled over it, holding one arm to block the extra light so he could see the screen better. "Tracking.. they're behind the ridge.."

She grinned. "Not in just a second.." She gunned the engines and the MOBAT sped up the side of a steep dune to top out, the front dropping down hard as they ran out of slope. "Get 'em Beach!"

Beach keyed in the firing code, waiting until the tank treads slammed back into the sand to lock on to the surprised Rattler flying over the sands low. "Got it." The sound of the launching missiles was loud in the tank. "Locked in, arming.. armed... " He flicked a eye over to the warning alert beeping. "They've fired on us.." He suddenly grabbed for a handhold. "Rockets locked on us.. evasive.. move.. MOVE!"

CoverGirl's face was set as she yanked the tank to the side, struggling to run it out of the path, making for a rocky area. "Did we hit them?! Fire second set... lock on them!" They both heard the explosion of their missiles hitting the Rattler. "They're down!!"

Beach was looking at the incoming alarm display. "So are we!" He lurched and grabbed onto a pipe above him, bracing himself as the world exploded around them.

The rockets hit under one set of treads, throwing the MOBAT sideways and over just enough for the slope to finish capsizing them. Then they slid downward belly-up and slammed to a stop against the rock formation they'd been trying to get to just a moment before. Bits of engine and tank tread showered down onto the dunes, sliding through the sand and coming to a rest. Other than a brief flurry of clicks as the transmission attempted to cough back to life, the MOBAT was still.

After a few minutes, there was a cough from inside the tank. "Auugh..." CoverGirl raised her head and peered around the dim interior of her tank. "Dang stupid Rattlers.. where the HELL was Ace? He's supposed to shoot those things down, not leave them roaming around looking for poor innocent tanks to shoot at." She reached to wipe at her forehead, finding it sticky. "Dang it.. I think I'm bleeding... Beach? Hey.. where are you?"

She felt the groan underneath her and twisted, struggling to lever herself off the prone form she'd landed on. "Get yer pointy elbow outa my liver.." Rolling over, she got to her hands and knees next to BeachHead who lay in an awkward pile on the interior of the roof of the capsized tank. "Gawd... "

"Beach.. you okay? Come on.. you better be fine, or I'm gonna climb out and go kick the Rattler wreckage until I find whatever is left of that stupid pilot! Hey! Are you okay?" She tried to feel his head to see if he'd banged it and had her hand pushed away.

"Ow! Well, don't poke my danged eyeball out.. I'm okay." He tried to sit up and failed. "I can't get up.. "

CoverGirl tried not to panic. "Oh god.. is it serious? Did you break your back? Was it cause I landed on you? I didn't mean to! Don't move! Stop moving around! Is it a spinal injury?"

He finally grabbed her jacket and shook her with one hand. "Shut up! It's my tactical vest.. it's hung up on something I landed on! Just reach under me and yank it loose.. " She bent over him, sliding one hand underneath to feel for what was tangled up. "I think to your right.. your other right Cinderella.. "

"Shut up.. I think I found it.. it's a broken conduit.. here.." She crawled over top of him, wrapping both arms underneath him to drag upwards and feel along the length of the pipe. "Hang on.."

He turned his face to the side to avoid putting his nose into her chest. "Uhh.. love to.. no safe place to put my hands right now.." Instead, he tried to prop himself up on his elbows and hitched upwards.

"No no.. go down.. not up.. it's jammed through the outer fabric.." She yanked harder on the vest, jerking his whole body. "Sorry.. almost.."

"Go down.. yeah.. I'm about to get slapped here, and I just want loose.." She slapped at the top of his head. "Ow! Told ya.. what direction? Further down? Ow.. OW!! It's poking me!"

She suddenly grinned down at him. "Shouldn't that be my line?" Her grin widened. "Wow.. you blush really really red! It's such fun to see you without the mask!" He glowered up at her. "Down.. just a couple inches.." She gave a last yank and freed the vest, sending him lurching upwards into her. "Hey!!"

"Sorry! I'm loose.. so get off me.." Beach waited for her to move aside before he sat up. "What's the sit-rep?"

The tank jockey crawled to the front console. "We're upside down.. all systems are out.. no power.. we're dead in the .. well.. sand." He got over to look at the console, then moved to the hatch. A few minutes showed him that it was jammed shut. Since the MOBAT was laying upside-down on the hatch, he doubted they would get it open any time soon. Just for the sheer heck of it, he tried the periscope hatch, and found it jammed shut as well.

"I think the turret is crushed. We're stuck.. check communications.. anything at all work?" While she poked at the console controls, trying to see if there was any way to get power to any part of the tank, he got out his own communicator. "I dunno if it'll work inside here.." He clicked it and saw the light blink green. "BeachHead to command.. BeachHead to.. hey.. anyone at all? Emergency.." He clicked off and waited. "How's the tank communications?"

CoverGirl whacked the board with her hand. "Dead. We got nothing but a big metal box with us inside it." She peeled off her jacket. "And it's turning into an oven."

BeachHead jumped when his communicator fizzed slightly. "This is Duke, what's your situation BeachHead?" He grabbed at it.

"The MOBAT got hit by a Rattler missile, we're wrecked, trapped inside it. Need immediate assistance." He motioned at CoverGirl. "Map.. map.. where are we? Can you estimate?"

She pulled down one of the paper rolls and pointed at a spot. "I'm guessing here.. command would be over here.. last coordinates anyway." He relayed the location quickly. "Tell them it's getting hot in here."

"BeachHead to command.. CoverGirl says to tell you it's hot as blazes in here." He smirked at her look of dismay.

Duke sounded very amused as he replied. "Tell CoverGirl she has plenty of practice playing it cool. She can pretend Clutch is hitting on her."

BeachHead held up a hand to stop CoverGirl from replying. "I'd prefer if you didn't say such things while I'm the one at ground zero here, Duke." She slapped at him anyway. "Ow! I'm wounded here dang it!"

CoverGirl pointed at him. "Your leg.. not your head."

"I was hit in the head with a gun, AND I hit the console with my head! That counts!" He managed to sound outraged and annoyed at the same time and triggered his communicator. "Duke, dang it, get me outa here before she kills me."

Duke came back on. "I'm putting medical on the comm, Lifeline wants to ask you guys some questions." BeachHead groaned and rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I'm sending a team out to you right now, they'll help you out."

"Thanks sir.. appreciate that. Put Lifeline on before he has a litter of kittens." Duke laughed in the background as the medic took over.

"Lifeline here, I hope you appreciate that I'm only concerned for your health, and trust me if I had a litter of kittens every time you made me worry, the Pit would be wall to wall cats." Their field medic sounded just a little tiny bit aggravated. "What injuries does CoverGirl have? Can she talk?"

CoverGirl pulled the communicator out of BeachHead's hand. He protested mildly. "Hey.. it's my unit, you should have brought your own." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Promises promises.."

She pointed at him. "Don't make me whip your Alabama butt, Beach." She clicked the communicator on. "CoverGirl here. I'm pretty much uninjured. The tank is upside-down and we took a bit of a tumble, but I landed on something soft."

Lifeline sounded puzzled. "What could you land on in a tank that's not going to split your head open?"

She was grinning openly at the disgusted sergeant major. "I landed on BeachHead, what else?" She yelped as her thigh was pinched. "Ow!! You..!" She punched him in the arm and he put one booted foot on her and shoved her across the tank away from him. "ANYWAY!!! Lifeline.. I'm okay, I have a little bump on my forehead. BeachHead is in a lot worse shape." She swatted his hand away when he tried to take his communicator back. "I picked him up because he had a busted leg, and he faceplanted into the console cause he can't hang on through a few bumps, and then he got rattled up when the MOBAT got blown over upsidedown. So he's got a bunch of bumps and bruises, and he hasn't shown me his leg, but he actually put a bandage on it himself, so it must be a doozey." She shoved at his chest as he struggled to get the communicator away. Rolling onto her back, she got a knee on his chest and tried to get her other foot up to kick him aside. "I think he may have been unconscious when the tank got hit.."

Finally BeachHead grabbed onto a lever on the roof beside CoverGirl and forced himself down over her, and grabbed the comm unit. "Gimme that thing! Gawd!"

She squeeled and when he let go, she shoved him off her. "Get off me! Bully!"

He stared at her in disbelief. "Riiight. Who's the one beating on someone in here?" She smacked him anyway. "Ow! Dang it!! See!?" He clicked the comm unit. "BeachHead here.. I'm fine. Except for being about to tear out my hair being stuck in this here oven with a cranky brat. OW!! Stop HITTING ME!!" He realized the comm was still open. "Sorry.. Cinderella here is getting violent. Lifeline, if you wanna save me, you'll get some help out here and get this coke can popped open, real QUICK!" He clicked it off and pointed at her. "Stop it, I'm already beat up, and sore, and hot, and I'm about to get ill-tempered. Just sit down and calm down."

She snorted and subsided for the moment. "I want outa here!" She fanned herself and found her canteen. "I'll split it with you."

He shook his head. "I got one in my pack.. finish yours." He watched her drain the water. It wasn't enough fluid unless they got out soon. "Lifeline? You still there? Ask Duke how long."

Duke came on in a minute. "BeachHead.. we're still wrapping up, I sent Dusty and Cross-Country in a Mauler. CoverGirl said you flipped the tank, so maybe they can flip you back over with the Mauler and some chains. Hang in there."

Beach sighed at the communicator and looked at CoverGirl. "He's just a pain. 'hang in there', what wisdom. What else are we supposed to do?" She shrugged at him. "What?"

"Nothing, I'm just sitting here." She fiddled with her sleeve, pointedly not looking at him. "It's so hot in here."

He puffed out a breath and suddenly peeled off his armored vest. "I'm burning up. This is crazy in here." He found a spot to sit that didn't have too many bits of mechanisms and sat down, extending his legs out carefully.

"I'm burning up too. The air intakes aren't working.. and this stupid hunk of metal wasn't ever intended to have a venting system otherwise. You just open the hatch.." She threw a bit of metal at the unusable hatch. "Stupid thing."

BeachHead shifted himself about, trying to get more comfortable. "Take off your boots. It'll cool you off more." Suiting action to words, he began unlacing his own combat boots. She watched him methodically undo the lacings and suddenly reached to drag her boots off, peeling off her socks as well. Wriggling her toes, she sighed. "Better?"

"I guess a little bit." She crawled over to sit next to him. "How are you wearing that sweater in here?"

He puffed out a breath and peeled it off. "Fine.. happy? Once you said it, I couldn't stand it. Thanks. I'll be half naked in here." She laughed a little bit at him. "Laugh it up Barbiedoll. You'll be pulling off clothes too if we don't get out soon." He leaned his head back and rotated it a few times, making his neck pop loudly. She peered closer at a couple nasty looking bruises on his back and shoulders.

"Ow.. doesn't that hurt?" He shook his head. She sighed and pulled off her outer shirt and then the teeshirt, leaving on the sports bra. "Great.. turnabout is fair play.. it's too hot already!" She got up and smacked the side of the tank. "Where's our rescue!? HEY!!! HEEEEEY!!!!"

He reached out to tug her down. "Sit down.. you're gonna hurt your hand. Yelling isn't going to help things, even if someone was outside, they'd barely hear you yelling in here." He tugged the communicator out of a pocket and handed it to her. "Here.. you hold this. See? Now you can talk to folks outside when you want. Feel better?"

She nodded and looked at the comm unit. "Thanks. I don't like being in here."

"You love being in a tank.. maybe you just don't like the company." He turned a little away, and fiddled with his boots, tucking the socks inside. "Can't blame you much.. I'm not much company at the best of times."

"It's not the company. I like you, Beach. It's the stupid tank being wrecked and not being able to get out, and it being an oven. We're gonna cook to death in here." She hugged her knees to her chest and looked at him seriously. "That's gotta suck as a way to go."

"Yep.. but we're not gonna die. Once Dusty and CrossCountry get here, they'll get this stupid MOBAT flipped over, and we'll get out. At least the desert will seem comfortable after being in here." He was relieved when she laughed at that.

"Yeah.. Dusty is insane. He likes it out here." She wiped a forearm across her face. "Well.. he likes it OUT there.. not in HERE!"

Beach took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yep." He shifted himself back a little bit and leaned against the wall, letting his head fall backwards. "Just try to relax.. and sweat a lot. That's what I'm gonna do. Especially the sweating part."

"Yeah.. I see that." She looked him over with frank appreciation. "You know, you got some serious abs going on there." She poked his stomach and he jerked. "What's the matter? Why don't you show off all these nice muscles more often? I bet you'd be beating the women off you if you just pulled off the shirt once in a while... well.. and throw in the occasional shower."

"Ha ha.. more hygiene jokes. Besides, I ain't interested in a whole buncha women." He closed his eyes again, then realized even his eyelids were sweating. He tried not to think about how nice CoverGirl was looking half dressed. He'd spent a long time forcing her into harder and harder work, and it was definitely showing in her toned body. "You look nice." He blinked suddenly. Had he said that out loud? Why would he do that? "Did I just say that?" Why had he ASKED if he said it? He closed his eyes again and hoped that she'd just let it pass.

"Well thanks.. I guess I don't mind you ogling me in my bra.. seeing as I'm oogling you with no shirt." She grinned when he sighed softly. "Seriously though... thanks. I'm starting to get some real guns now!" She flexed an arm, smiling at the bunched muscles showing up. "Beach! Look at my guns... hey!" She jabbed his side.

"Ow! What?" He looked irritable as he blinked and wiped a hand over his face.

"I said...look at my muscles! Aren't they impressive?" He glanced at them and nodded. "No.. really! I think my arms look better than Jaye's... what do you think?"

He frowned at her, the familiar expression almost making her laugh. He was always frowning at something. If he didn't have anything to frown about.. he'd frown that he didn't have anything to frown at.

"I think answering that might get me kicked in the nads by LadyJaye when you go repeatin' it."

She crowed happily and flexed her arm for him again. "Go ahead! Feel them muscles!" She laughed when he reached to squeeze her arm carefully, feeling it around a bit.

"Not bad. I think you need to put on more weight. You're wanting for some extra fat for padding under your skin, you know. Too thin still." He looked at her face with a somber expression. "I've seen you eat, and you should eat a lot more carbs than you do. Protein and carbs, not lightweight stuff like those salads you're so fond of." He gave another firm squeeze. "That's some nice guns though. Surprised anyone can build good muscle eating as little as you do."

She beamed at him. "Thanks. And I do so eat protein and carbs.. you just aren't ever in the messhall when I eat dinner. I eat salads for lunch, cause I don't like heavy meals in the middle of the day." He nodded at her. "So?"

"So what?" He turned loose of her arm and sat back.

"So show me your muscles." She was looking at him expectantly. "Come on.. I know you got 'em, so flaunt 'em.. just this once.. just for me?" CoverGirl's large eyes blinked in a over-exaggerated manner, her lips not quite able to keep from curving upwards slightly.

"Oh now with the doe eyes. Like that works with me." She started pouting and he laughed out loud at the expression. "You know that's kind of creepy." She couldn't hold the face any longer and laughed at him. "Okay okay.. just for you.." He bent an arm up and flexed for her, trying not to seem like he really cared what she thought. Even though he knew he could out-muscle just about any of the Joes, Roadblock and GungHo withstanding of course.. he somehow wanted to see her impressed by him. Not that her opinion mattered in the least.

"Ooooooooo." She made a show of wrapping her hands around his bicep and squeezing. "Soooo hard. Are you that hard all over?"

He suddenly blushed and looked aside. "Uh... I think I better not answer that one.. getting slapped too much today already..." She smacked at him. "See? You started this, and you keep making the comments... and I keep getting in trouble."

The lean model smirked at his belabored expression. "Oh please.. next thing you're gonna be saying that it's not fair that you get into trouble."

"Aww.. life ain't fair. I learned that a long time ago." She saw his back bunch up and relax again. "Other than the Army, ain't nothing ever went right in my life. Good thing that the Army's been so good to me." He wiped more sweat off his face. "Gawd.. what route are they takin' to get here??"

She patted him. "They'll be here.. those tanks aren't speedsters." Picking up the communicator, she looked at it. "If they aren't here in five minutes I'll call Duke and cry over the line at him."

"Cry? Seriously? You don't gotta be upset.. they'll get here." Beach was pretty alarmed at the prospect of her bursting into tears and him being the only human being available for her to cry on.

"Don't be ridiculous. If I cry over the comm line, Duke'll have every available man here in five seconds. He can't stand having a girl cry, he's just like that." She looked too smug for words. "Oh man it's SOOOO HOT!!!" Her voice ended in a scream. "That's it.." She got up awkwardly to begin stripping off her pants.

"What are ya doin??" She somewhat relished the slight panic in his voice. "Put yer pants back on!" BeachHead caught the set of khakis she threw at him and threw them back at her. "Good GAWD woman!"

"IT'S BLOODY HOT!!" Her scream made his mouth shut with a click. "Shut up, Beach! I'm hot, and I'm not gonna swelter in here just to preserve some dignity!" She sat down and grabbed her discarded shirt to wipe her face and belly. "I'm covered in sweat.. and it's not making me any cooler at all. Besides.. you saw me in a bathing suit before.. remember? I'm still wearing more cloth now than I was then. So shut up."

He sighed. "You're just shameless. Does it come from bein' a model?"

She scowled at him. "Just what is that supposed to mean? You think I just slept around with everything and anyone? Everyone and anyone? I didn't! You big jerk!" She hitched herself further away from him and wiped her shirt over herself again.

"No.. I meant cause ya had to change all the time with folks right there. I dunno why yer in such a swivet over everything I say!" He took a deeper breath and lowered his head to his arms folded over his knees. "I didn't mean to make ya mad.. I didn't mean it that way."

"Okay.. sorry. I just assumed.. I mean.." She sighed heavily. "It's alright BeachHead.. I know.. you didn't mean it like that." He tilted his face to look at her out of tired eyes. "You look horrible. Get your water out.. you need some water."

He puffed out a heavy breath. "I ain't got any water." She gaped at him. "I told you I did so you'd drink yours. You needed it more than I did."

"You.. you LIED to me! You damned stubborn Ranger!" She slapped him in the head and he didn't even twitch away this time. "You big fat lier." She scooted over closer to him, putting her shoulder within a few inches of his and leaning her back against the wall. "Why would you do that?"

"You never drink enough in these tanks.. mosta the time, your jug of water comes out almost full when we get back. So you needed that more, cause I drank my water already." He smiled at her. "You look good."

"Thanks Beach.. but you don't have to look after me. I'm a Joe, I know how to take care of myself, you know." She leaned over and plucked at her bra a little. "It's too danged hot in here. And you already told me I look good."

"Well you do look good."

"You said that."

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BREAK: I'm posting all three chapters at once, don't worry, the breaks are merely for length.


	2. Chapter 2

Part TWO

Hope everyone is enjoying.. same author's notes as the first...

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Beach sat still feeling as if his blood was coming to a simmer. "Do you know how to get a warrant officer to make good stew?"

She blinked at him in a puzzled manner. "What?"

He peered at her bleerily. "You cut up 'em in small pieces and add lots of potatoes..." He gave her half a grin, adding to her confusion.

"Beach.. you okay?" She looked at his face closely. "You're acting a little weird."

"Sorry... I'm really hot.. and I suck at tellin' jokes, see? I try sometimes.. but I suck at it." She nodded and reached to put a hand on his cheek. "Aww don't slap me again.. I'm tired of ya slappin' me today.. save up some for tomorrow."

"I'm not slapping you.. I'm trying to see if you're overheating." She twisted up onto her knees and reached to take his face in both hands, tilting it up to look at his eyes. "Look at me." He blinked at her.

"I been trying not to look at you.. you'll just hit me more. Prancing around in your skivvies.. in a TANK no less." He suddenly shook his head. "Gawd I'm hot." He struggled up and turned a circle looking. "Crap.. what am I doin'?" He sat back down suddenly and sucked in a deep breath. "Ain't like a new hatch done appeared while we was sittin' here.. right? Sorry."

"It's okay.. I think the heat is getting to you a little." She picked up her shirt and wiped at his face. "Are you still sweating?"

He nodded. "Yep.. pouring buckets.. I'm gonna dry up and die in a puddle here." Beach suddenly tried to stretch his legs out and then rubbed his thigh a little. "You sweating too?"

"Yep.. " She reached behind her and twisted her hair up with a practiced hand. Loose strands stuck to her cheek in runnels of sweat. "Alright, it's been long enough.. where's the comm unit?"

He rummaged in the gear and almost dropped the unit entirely as it squawked to life.

"Dusty to BeachHead.. I think we have to be near you.. don't want you to think we stopped for lunch on the way to rescue you guys.."

BeachHead grimaced. "BeachHead here.. get a move on. It's getting bad in here.."

"Sorry.. we've been circling the coordinates. Having issues actually locating where you are though."

CoverGirl snatched the comm unit. "How hard can it be to find a OVERTURNED TANK YOU IDIOT?!? Come GET US OUT!" Her shout made BeachHead wince as it reverberated inside the tank.

"Sorry CoverGirl.. it's all dunes.. you have to be in a dip, and unless we're right on top of you guys, we won't see you." Dusty sounded testy, as if they were inconveniencing him by being trapped.

BeachHead held out his hand and CoverGirl reluctantly put the comm unit into it. "Dusty.. call Ace.. have him circle and locate us from the air.. he can zero you in on our position. Get here fast.. I dunno how long we can survive this." He waited for a moment, and then heard the distinct sound of Dusty and Cross-Country laughing. "DANG IT!! It's a hundred and thirty in here! It's not a DANGED JOKE!"

"How hot?" Suddenly Dusty sounded serious. "Beach.. we're looking.. really. Is the air scrubber not working properly on your MOBAT?"

"NOTHING is working you idiots! We're laying upside down broiling slowly! GET OUT HERE! Otherwise, you're gonna be pulling two cooked carcasses out of a MOBAT oven." Beach clicked the comm unit off and sat it aside carefully, resisting the urge to pitch it across the tank. It was the only communications they had.

CoverGirl watched him for a moment and then nodded at his BDU pants which were soaked through now. "Take off your pants."

"What?? No!" He grumbled under his breath.

"Take them off! I took off my pants!" She wondered where his sudden sense of shyness had come from. "You're hot and sweating, it only makes sense to take them off, so strip, I already took off my pants."

He glared darkly at her. "And if you jumped off a bridge, am I supposed to do that too?" He regretted the question when she grinned at him.

"Usually you jump first and the rest of us gotta follow you.. but yeah. If I jump off, you gotta jump off to come help me out. Who else will come pull my bacon outa the fire?" Her saucy expression made him sigh softly at her before he could contain it. "What was that for?"

"Nothin'. I ain't takin' off my pants." Her swatted her hands away when she decided to 'help' him undress. "Get off me Courtney! You're not getting me outa my pants!"

She suddenly sat back and narrowed her gaze. "Why not? Usually I can't get most guys to keep their pants ON around me, why are you so difficult?" He snorted at her in irritation and drew his legs up to rest his folded arms on them.

"I'm not 'most guys'. Most guys are tryin' ta get inta yer pants the instant they see ya. I'm tryin' to get ya to stay IN yer clothes." He suddenly let his head fall back to rest on the wall behind him. "I must be cracked in the head. I should be peeling all mah clothin' off and makin' a buncha sugestive comments."

His accent deepened. "Aww heck wit' it fine.. ya wanna see mah legs??" He scooted forward and peeled off the sodden camouflage pants and chucked them aside, standing up in a crouch in nothing but his OD boxer briefs "Happy? Getta nice look at all this Ranger skin? Want me ta pose fer ya?" He flexed his arms in a simulated bodybuilding pose, then flopped down to sit and look sulky. He spent half a minute checking the bandage he'd wrapped around his thigh wound, but it hadn't begun bleeding through the bandage so he would assume it was doing just fine.

She was giving him a mournful look which he was ignoring. "Beach.. I just want you to be comfortable.. you're too big for me to lift out of the tank if you pass out. And I can't even lift you out of the tank anyway.. cause the hatch is all jammed." She scooted over to be next to him again. "I'm sorry I make you all upset all the time. I really LIKE you, and you just get angry at me over nothing."

He snorted. "Ya PICK fights with me, hurl insults at me, talk back on the obstacle courses, and play pranks on me every chance ya get.. yer NOT sorry. Ya TRY ta make me upset, so don't think ya can go giving me the booboo lip look and I'll just fall fer it. Nuh-uh.. this Ranger didn't jus' fall offa turnip truck."

She looked confused. "Do turnip trucks actually exist?" He tilted his head at her in confusion. "What?"

"A'course turnip trucks exist! What did ya think? I made up the expression?" He let his eyes close for a moment and wiped his forearm across his face. "It's a truck hauling a load of harvested turnips to market. Ain't ya never seen a truck loaded with vegetables outa the fields?" She shook her head solemnly. "Gawd.. go ahead and make some joke about me being a redneck hick. I know yer gonna."

"No I'm not." Instead she reached out and ran a finger along his forearm, tracing a long curving scar. "How'd you get this? It's wicked long..."

He pulled his arm away, looking at her suspiciously. "Don't touch me.. why do ya care how I got it?"

Now CoverGirl let out a breath explosively and yelled at him. "I'm TRYING to make CONVERSATION! You know.. get our minds off the fact that we're trapped in a frying pan!"

"Dutch oven."

She blinked. "What?"

"Fryin' pans ain't got lids.. we'd jus' jump out like frog legs in hot oil. Dutch ovens got heavy lids.. so it's more like being trapped inna dutch oven." She suddenly laughed. "It's true."

"I know I know.. that's why it's funny. You correcting my simile is sooooo 'BeachHead'." She laughed at his annoyed expression. "So tell me how you got the scar!"

He looked down at it a moment. "I filleted my arm open on razor wire. The enemy was firing on my position, and I needed to get under this roll of razor wire, and I saw this one spot where it sorta bowed up offa ground.. so I ran under it, ducked down as low as I could and not stop.. but I was gonna smack my face into it, so I just sorta put my arm up, and pushed it a little higher as I ducked under it. I barely felt it bite. Sharp stuff, lucky it was new wire, no rust. Bled like a mother.. " He smiled. "I wrapped it up good, but Lifeline insisted on checking it in the extraction plane, and when he cut my bandaging off, it started bleeding alllll over.. and he was angry as a wet hen. Said I should have had him look at it to begin with, instead of running around organizing things so we could get our tails outa there."

She nodded. "That's when you had it in the sling and we were all tattling on you any time we found you with it off, right? That was fun! I think people were following you around just to see if they could catch you misbehaving."

He sighed peevishly. "Yeah.. danged uppity medic." He looked at her. "So tell me how you got one of your scars."

She tilted her oh so perfect face up to him. "Which one? I'll tell you.. if you pick it out.." She leaned back to display all her skin to him, and he ran his gaze over her slowly. After a minute of him looking her over, she reached to give him a poke. "Well?"

"Well what?" He sounded distracted and his eyes continued to roam over her sleek sweat-covered skin.

"Pick a scar!" She wiped at her face with her now soaked shirt.

"What scar... oh yeah.. uhh.." He pointed at a small irregular patch on her ribs, carefully not touching her skin, although he had a strange urge to feel and see if it felt dimpled. It looked like the kind of scar that would be overly sensitive to touch, the kind of made shivers run up your spine when someone stroked them.. he blinked at her suddenly. "What?"

"You weren't listening!" She looked away, scowling. "I said I got it from the shrapnel when my first Wolverine got blown up. It cut a divot out of my ribs, even scratched the bone. Ruined a set of boots because I didn't notice the blood running down my leg right into them, and never could get them cleaned properly again."

He rocked back and forth idly. "You try pourin' peroxide in 'em? That's what I do to my boots."

"No, does it work? Wouldn't it ruin the leather?"

"Not if'n ya condition the leather to begin with, use some canuba type wax made for leather." He looked at her seriously. "If ya want.. I'll show ya when we're back at base one evenin'."

"That's nice of you, thanks. So my turn again!!" He sighed as she looked him over like a connoisseur at a buffet. "Hmm... oooooo... this one." Her fingers touched down on his upper thigh and stroked sooo softly down the ragged scar that widened and narrowed twice, the tiny dots along either edge telling of the extensive stitches that had repaired it. "It looks like it was a wicked one." Her touch lingered and then traveled back up the length of it again before lifting away. He shivered at the tingle in his spine and she peered closely at his face with the half-closed eyes. "What's wrong? Did it hurt?"

"Naw.." He sighed out the response. "Don't hurt.. that's fer sure.."

She smiled wickedly and began to stroke it again but he captured her hand and removed it. "What? Doesn't it feel .... nice?"

"Hands off the sergeant major. Got that scar from a landmine taking out the AWEStriker I was ridin' gunner position in. Either it blew a chunk of metal into my leg.. or I landed on a chunk after getting blown through the air, never figured out which. Took nearly a week before Doc would let me even try ta walk on it. I limped for two months, and Doc screamed at me the entire time if he caught me out running on it. I started puttin' in earplugs every morning ta go fer my run." He rolled his head on his neck.

"You okay?" She reached to feel at his neck and he jerked. "Hey.. it's okay. I just want to see how hot you are and check your pulse rate." He sighed and pushed her hand away.

"Hands off the sergeant major.. again.. stop touchin' me." His soft sigh made her look closer at him. "What?"

"Why don't you like people to touch you?" Now she scooted away from the wall so she could face more towards him and look at him carefully.

"People don't touch me.. not in a nice way. Generally when anyone lays hands on me, they're gonna try to hurt me.. even if they're just prankin' or being foolish." He shifted uneasily. The sweat was still beading up on his skin, rivulets forming to track across it, following some of the deeper furrowed scars to drip off him.

CoverGirl gazed at him quietly for a minute then impulsively raised up on her knees and leaned over to hug him tightly around the neck. He was so stunned, he sat there and let her do it. He ignored how her chest pressed against his shoulder, and put one hand on her back lightly. She turned loose and sat back. "I'm sorry people are mean to you. That's just not fair."

"Ain't no big deal." He smiled a little though. "You give good hugs."

She smiled back, pleased to see the expression on his usually stern face. "Oh? Who's hugs are you comparing mine to?" His face fell and he looked away. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry.. never mind.." She reached to poke him. "Stop.."

"Oh? Come on.. tell me who you're comparing my hug to, Ranger man! Who you been hugging on?" She told herself she wasn't jealous at all.

"I'm not comparin' them ta anyone else's... okay?" He frowned and dropped his chin slightly in the expression that said nothing was going to make him back down. She raised hers in her own defiant challenge. "I'm not. Jus' drop it."

"No. You tell me who!" She'd spend as long as she needed to in order to find out now.

He suddenly looked at her. "No one! I ain't gotten a hug from anyone in so long, I can't even REMEMBER! Okay? Ya all happy now? Think up some smartass remark about my body odor or attitude and go ahead and make it. No one touches me in kindness. Happy now?"

The former model blinked at him. "No.. I'm not happy. That's sad.." Before he could stop her, she wrapped her arms around him again, slipping one beneath his arm and squeezed tightly. "I'm sorry it's like that Beach.. really I am. I'll give you a hug anytime you want.. I promise."

Despite his wary nature, and his deeply ingrained suspicions, he still brought his own arms up to lightly rest them around her back. "Y-you'll just make it a joke at my expense.."

Her arms tightened again before she released her hold and sat back to look at his face earnestly. "No. I promise. If you come and ask me for a hug, I'll give you one, free and clear, anytime, with no smart remarks."

"Even if I put ya through the obstacle course ten times just that morning and called ya a half-weight pogue?" His expression was soo serious that she almost missed the slight twinkle in his eye.

"Yes... even if you've been being your usual sunny upbeat self at ungodly hours of the morning. Besides.. you're nice to hug.. all strong muscles and solidness." She plopped down to sit next to him. "Hey.. you stopped sweating.. did you stop sweating?"

He looked down at his chest and wiped over his neck. "Dang it.. yeah. I did." He sighed. "I'm about to have heat stroke.. no wonder I'm sittin' here talkin' 'bout wantin' hugs.."

She watched the muscles in his back bunch up again and it hit her. "Your back is cramping.. isn't it?" He nodded. "You've been in heat exhaustion already.."

"Yeah.. my legs have cramped, and my arms.. dizzy.. now I stopped sweatin', so I'm past exhaustion, into heat stroke proper now.. " He dropped his head forward some. "How're you doing?"

She shook her head, clenching her hands into fists. "I'm okay.. no cramping.. a little dizzy." She watched his back muscles twitch and jerk and reached to put a hand on his shoulder. "Here..." She grabbed his pack and put it in front of her. "Lie over this.." She tugged at him and he resisted. "Come on.. I'll rub the cramps out of your back.. lie over."

He let his eyes close for a moment. "I'll be fine.." She pulled him forward and he gave in and twisted his legs around to lie on his chest across the lumpy field pack. It beat the roof of the MOBAT with all the metal bits of angles and pipes. He tried to stretch his shoulders and hissed in pain when CoverGirl's fingers dug into the middle of his back. "Ow.."

"I know.. give me a minute." He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to relax while she massaged the cramped spots. It was equal parts pleasure and pain, but the idea that she cared enough to try to soothe his spasming muscles tipped the balance for him. After a few minutes the cramps were just starting to respond to her kneading when there was a clang from outside the tank, and they both looked up, then at each other. Before CoverGirl could find the comm unit, it squawked.

Dusty sounded triumphant. "Found you guys!! Wow.. you found the only rocks to land on CoverGirl.. did you try to find a big hole to roll into?"

Gingerly rocking himself back onto his heels, BeachHead gave her a smirk. "See? Wasn't just me.." She aimed a half-hearted swat at his arm, pointing at him in warning. "Answer him."

"CoverGirl here.. just get us OUT.. Beach is already having a heart stroke." She got up and walked a tiny circle crouched over. "We need out of here fast.. can you flip us? Dig under to the hatch?"

Dusty's voice sounded disappointed. "No go on the digg-a-lo.. can't dig through rock. We got the Mauler.. but you're in the bottom of a sand ravine sorta spot.. in the trough of a set of dunes.. Cross-Country is laying out the chains so we can figure out how to hook them up so we can get enough leverage." BeachHead suddenly tilted his head, listening and pointed to one spot where he could hear faint scraping and scuffling noises. "Gonna have to dig a bit, and find a spot to hook the chains.. so just sit tight."

"Do we have a choice? Not like we're going to get impatient and leave, is it now?" CoverGirl grimaced at her fellow prisoner in the tank. "Hope this doesn't take long.."

BeachHead stayed seated, trying to picture the outside from the glimpses he'd gotten before the explosion, estimating weights and angles. "If they have enough chain, they might be able to run it over the ridge of whichever spot is lowest, get the Mauler's weight aided by gravity.. just maybe they can flip us. But we're about the same weight.. only good thing is the Mauler has a lower center of gravity.. they might be able to get enough leverage."

CoverGirl stared at him a second in stunned amazement. "Who are you and where is the real BeachHead? That sounded almost like physics and math going on in your head."

He smirked at her. "Ha ha. Veeery funny Courtney. Didn't know ole' stupid redneck hick BeachHead was a valedictorian in high school, did you? I'm NOT stupid, nor am I uneducated." He closed his eyes. "I might not be some literary scholar like certain warrant officers.. but I'm not a moron."

Her tone was soft. "Beach, I never thought you were stupid. Even if I call you a big stupid rockhead.. and stuff like that. It's just insults. I don't really think you're not a smart guy, okay?" He nodded. "They'll get us out."

"Okay.. I'm just pretty tired. Not tryin' to spoil fer a fight.. with... with ya.." He sighed heavily. "I don't feel as hot now..."

She jumped over and put her hands on his face, running one hand across his chest. "You're not sweating at all now.. your skin is not as hot feeling.. it's definitely heat stroke."

He shook his head trying to clear it. "I'm okay.. they'll be pullin' us out in a minute." She ignored his false reassurances and plucked up the comm unit. "Don't go getting yer panties in a wad..."

"Dusty?? Hurry up! Beach is having heart stroke in here." She watched his skin pale slightly before it flushed red again. "You have to get us OUT of here!"

Dusty sounded a bit out of breath. "Tell Beach to hang in there, give him some water and loosen his clothing."

She gritted her teeth. "We don't have any water! We're both stripped to the skin in here, he's having a heat stroke, and I CAN'T HELP HIM! Get.. us .. OUT!" Her shout made Beach open his eyes at her.

"Calm down.. it's fine." She listened to his breathing deepen. "I'll last.. I'm not gonna die locked in a tank of heat stroke, Courtney. It'd ruin my image. Not happenin'. I gotta go down in a hail of gunfire, it's sort of the deal I made with the Army.." He gave her a funny looking lopsided grin. "Joe team ain't getting rid of me so easily."

They listened to clangs and bangs and rattles. Beach hummed softly. "Sounds like they're getting the chains on." CoverGirl strained to hear the Mauler engines.

The comm unit buzzed in a low tone. "Okay.. you guys hang on to something, we're gonna give this a try."

Beach stood up shakily, grabbing onto things to get upright. "Hang on to the top here.. brace between floor and roof if ya can.. we're gonna tumble." He wedged himself against one wall, trying to wrap hands into projections.

CoverGirl grabbed onto the opposite wall in a similar manner. "You hang on Beach.. can you hang on?" He nodded grimly and she couldn't help but look him over and wondered if he was enjoying looking her nearly naked body over as much as she was his. The tank jerked slightly and she looked around. "Which way is it gonna roll?"

"Dunno.. just try to hang tight." There was a second jerk and they lifted and slammed back down. "Come on guys.. that didn't move us more than a danged foot..." They waited and felt a slow vibration begin to build, the metal beginning to groan. "Yeah.. come on guys.."

The MOBAT lurched somewhat, and began to lift up on BeachHead's side. "Aww.. dang it.. I picked the wrong side.." He hung on as the entire thing tilted worse and worse, the angle beginning to shift.

"Beach... leggo.. come to this side before it gets too far!" He looked at her then turned loose and started to cross when there was a loud SPANG and the tank slammed back down, sending him into the floor in a heap. "Beach!! God.. you okay?" He gave her a thumbs-up.

"Yeah.. just my danged luck today, if it weren't fer bad luck.. I wouldn't have no luck at all." He rolled to his side and got up to his knees, looking at the thigh bandage which was rapidly becoming stained red. "Great.."

"Your arm is bleeding.." He glanced at that and found another small cut from landing on something sharp. "Hang on.. I'll get the medical kit."

He sighed and sat back, gazing at the leg wound. Soon enough she spotted the blood and immediately peeled the bandage off. Blood welled up and ran down his leg in lazy runnels. He watched her looking at it, wiping the blood away and placing a thick pad of gauze over it to press down.

"Ow."

"Sorry..I'm gonna wrap this up, but I don't want to tie it so tight I cut off circulation." She continued to put pressure on the wound. "It's stopped bleeding..."

"My blood is too thick.. not enough fluid in it to keep bleeding." His amused tone worried her a little. "Better not let Clutch know you did this for me.. he'll go stab himself jus' to get your hands on his thigh."

She snorted loudly. "I don't have any desire to put my hands on anyone else's thigh other than yours, Ranger man." Suddenly she rolled her eyes. "Wait.. that didn't come out right.. I didn't mean I wanted to put my hands on your thighs.."

"But you got yer hands all over my thigh right now." Beach was definitely amused now, he was almost certain it had to do with the heat stroke, maybe he wasn't quite all there in the head...

"Just to bandage and wrap it up." She tried to roll the bandages around his leg and needed to slid one hand under the leg and lift it some. "Pick your leg up.. I need to get this under.."

"Okaaaay.. you keep tying me all up.. I'll jus' lie here and let ya..."

"BEACH! Geez.. come on.." She shook her head. "You're impossible, there.. now let me see your arm." Checking it found the minor cut already clotted over. "It's okay.. see? Not that bad.. "

He reached up and stroked hair off her face, carefully removing the bits of reddish locks bit by bit. "Yer bleeding.." She blinked. "Yer forehead.. " His fingers touched a sore spot and she reached up to feel the seeping blood. "Gimme a piece of gauze." He managed to tape it into place without too much trouble. "There, all fixed." He was still breathing hard and tried to slow it down. He didn't want to alarm CoverGirl any more than she already was.

* * * *

BREAK: Last chapter coming up.


	3. Chapter 3

Chap 3

Same author's notes as first.

Hope it's okay!

* * * *

"Beach.. where's the comm unit?" He pointed to one side and she scooped it up. The rattles and clangs continued as she tried to raise someone on the radio. Finally it came to life.

"This is Duke.. CoverGirl, did Dusty and Cross-Country get there? You guys doing okay?"

She breathed softly a few times before she spoke. "They're here, but I can't get them to talk to me on the comm, they bumped us around a little, but I don't know what's going on.."

Duke's voice came back to her soothingly. "I'll try to raise them, just keep calm. How're you doing?"

"I'm okay.. heat exhaustion.. getting dehydrated.. but Beach is already in heat stroke, we need out, now." She tried to not to sound paniced. "I just can't raise them to find out what the problem is."

Dusty's voice suddenly broke in. "CoverGirl.. we're here.. we broke a chain, we've got it fixed and are getting it refastened. Sorry, but the comm unit got knocked around and was on the wrong channel. We're right here.." There was a double clang from outside. "See? We're right here. Gonna get you guys out in just a minute."

She heaved a sigh, turning to look at BeachHead. He had lain his head back and relaxed. When he spotted her looking at him, he gave her a thumbs-up encouragingly. "They're going to give us another try in a second." He nodded. "Dusty.. give us some warning.." As if cued by her request, the tank shifted. "Oh blast!! Hang on!" The wreckage jerked sideways and she saw Beach grabbing for something to hang onto.

Her world tilted and jerked and she felt the piping under her fingers as she tried to grab and hold on, just as it slipped away. Grunts and thumps told her Beach was faring no better as she hit something with her chin and then went weightless again as the 'floor' decided to twist again.

When the tumbling stopped, she lay on her face with a leg hung up on the pilot chair. "Ungh.. that sucked.." Getting herself untangled, she saw BeachHead trying to sit up looking dazed.

"Oh man.. I'm getting payback for ever' time I ever put a bug in a jar and shook it as a kid.." The comm unit buzzed loudly. "Answer that would ya... if it's for me.. tell 'em I'm out.."

She grabbed it. "Dusty you jerk! You didn't warn us! You ever been rattled around in a dice cup? Are you trying to kill us?"

Beach had gotten up and was twisting the hatch lock. "Cinderella.. give me a hand.. I can't get it open.." She put the comm down and tried to help him twist. With both of them wrenching at it, it inched around slowly. "That's it.. it's unlocked.. just.. dang it!!" Beach got below it and braced himself to try to force it up. "It's jammed.. oh fer the love of little green peas... this really is just too much!" He put one powerful shoulder on the underside and braced his good leg. "Eeeergh!!!"

Covergirl yanked at him. "Stop Beach! It's jammed! Let Cross-Country and Dusty get it from the outside." He subsided and settled to the floor. "Good.. good.. just sit there."

"I'm havin' a seriously bad day.. can I have a do-over?" She gave a soft laugh and he sighed. "Get on the comm, tell them to get the danged hatch open."

She clicked the comm a few times. "Dusty.. the hatch is jammed.. hey.. you guys out there!?" There was a banging noise up above them. She put her ear up near the hatch to hear muffled yelling.

"Covergirl! Our comm is out! Open the hatch!!" She was nearly certain it was Cross-Country. "Undog the hatch!"

She put her mouth up next to the periscope, hoping there might be some crevice to carry her voice better. "HEY!! THE HATCH IS UNDOGGED!! OPEN IT!!"

There was slight shuffling above her, then Dusty's voice came through, with him speaking near the periscope hatch as well. "Hey! We're trying to open it.. undog the hatch!"

"IT'S JAMMED!!! WE UNLOCKED IT!! OPEN IT!! OPEN IT!!" She pounded on the underside ineffectively with her fist.

Beach stepped up and took her arm to stop her. "Hey.. calm down.. you'll break your hand.." She pulled away and grabbed a loose piece of metal and used that to pound the hatch. "Well.. that's better I guess..."

"OPEN IT!! OPEN IT!!" She shouted and then threw the metal bit, jumping when it bounced off the wall and flew at her legs. "Come on!!"

"Courtney.. I hope you meant it.. I'm gonna call yer bluff.. gimme a hug.. come on.. you need to calm down.. it'll be fine." He wrapped both arms around her and held her still. It was the only thing he could think of to calm her. "Shh.. calm down.. it's just the heat.. please don't knee me in the nads for touching ya.. I'm havin' a bad enough day.."

She sighed and squeezed him tightly for a moment. "I'm okay.. just.. I'm just so frustrated.. this is so dumb." They listened to clanks and scraping noise over their heads. "At least they seem to understand we can't open it." He let her go and she stepped back and settled into the piloting chair. Instead of taking the secondary position, BeachHead settled on the floor leaning against the wall. "You doing okay?"

"Nope." He was glancing around the interior. "Nope.. put yer clothes back on.. they're gonna think we was foolin' around.. that'd be bad.."

CoverGirl nodded. "Yes.. I'll do that in just a second. Just a minute, okay?" He nodded, satisfied that she would do it. "Beach.. look at me... Beach... hey.." She watched his breathing quicken. "Beach.. calm down..."

"I'm... I'm really not feeling well..." He stared at the wall opposite him. "Can't get my breath.. did.. did I go for a run?"

She settled on the floor next to him. "Yeah.. just rest.. calm down.. slow deep breaths.. Beach.. look at me.." His face turned towards hers and he shivered. "Hey.. I'm gonna go yell at Dusty.. okay?" He nodded.

Getting up carefully, she scooped up a metal chunk of the wrecked console, banging it against the hatch. "DUSTY!!! HELP US!!! PLEEEASE!! HELP US!!" She could hear muffled cursing. Abruptly there was the sound of metal squealing loudly. There was the smallest crack of light suddenly as the hatch began to be pried upwards. "YEAH!! HELP!!! HELP!!!!" As the crack widened, she backed up, turning to grab Beach by one arm. "Get up Beach.. come on.."

"In a minute.." She dragged at his arm ineffectively and he pulled away. "Leggo.. " To her horror his eyes began to drift shut.

"Oh no you don't! Get up!" She looked up as the sunlight began to shine through the hatch being forced open bit by bit.

Dusty's muttered curses blended with Cross-Country's groans of effort as they apparently forced the hatch open by sheer will power and stubbornness. "Almost... almost.. hang on guys.. "

Beach suddenly looked up and blinked at the opening hatch. "LOOK OUT!!!" He swung his left arm in a sweep, knocking Covergirl aside and down, clutching at himself with his right, hunting for a weapon he wasn't wearing. "Incoming!" He snatched at the holstered .45 laying on the floor as CoverGirl lunged upwards knocking his hands away. "We got hostiles!! MOVE!!"

"NO!! Beach!! BEACH!! It's Dusty and Cross-Country!! It's JOES!" He paused and looked at her confused. She could see him trembling as he struggled to stay upright. "Look... it's Dusty!" Beach settled back on his heels, the bandage looking especially bright against his bare skin.

The sergeant ran one hand through his ruffled hair. "Sorry..I.. I'm confused.." He watched the hatch being wrenched off. "You tell me if I need to do something.."

She smiled at his trust in her. "Get up and get ready to get the heck outa here.." He nodded and moved over nearer to her, crouching next to her legs patiently. "DUSTY!! COME ON!!!!! GOOOO!!! YEAH!!!" Her yells of encouragement didn't really speed up the process, but it sure felt good. The air that began to flow felt deliciously cool compared to the furnace temperatures trapped inside the tank. There was one last loud crack, and the hatch flipped free completely.

Dusty stuck his head in, and grinned rakishly. "You Joes wanna come out and play? Come on.. " He reached a hand down to CoverGirl who turned and dragged at BeachHead's arm, getting him on his feet. He bent and grabbed her legs around the knees and boosted her up through the hatch despite her protests. Dusty grabbed her arm, lifting her bodily through the hatch. "Wow!" Suddenly remembering her state of undress, she glared at the desert trooper who hastily looked down into the tank instead. "It really was bad in there.. you got heat waves coming out.. come on Beach.. gimme your hand.. come on Cross-Country, get his other hand, let's get our Sergeant major out of this oven.." BeachHead was lifted out by his arms, his greater weight making the two Joes grunt with effort. "There ya go!"

CoverGirl waited for him to clamber down from the tank, taking his arm as he staggered in the sand. "Let's get you to some shade.." They both sat under the front edge of the Mauler while Cross-Country unhooked and stowed the chains. Dusty brought water, making certain that BeachHead started drinking.

Being the resident expert on heat, he very quickly became concerned. "Beach.. you're in heat stroke.. we need to get you evac-ed.. where's your comm unit?"

Beach snorted, sipping at more water slowly. "Where do ya think? Do I look like I got pockets?" Dusty nodded and went to climb into the MOBAT, gathering up their clothing and weapons. Beach swayed slightly where he sat, turning a bemused look on CoverGirl. "You look good."

She laughed at him. "You look good too Beach. Nice shorts."

He glanced down at them, as if surprised. "Yep.. these are my formal shorts, I only put them on fer special occasions.. like.. military formal things.. or dinners.. or getting stuck in tanks with crazy beautiful women tank jockeys.. stuff like that."

Dusty came up and handed their clothes over to them. "If I were you, I'd put on the bare minimum.. of course CoverGirl's bare minimum is always much less than yours Beach.. nothing personal, but you got hairy legs."

He snorted up at Dusty, rocking back and forth slightly as his head tilted. "Watch it.. if I gotta get up to kick yer butt.. I'm gonna kick it twice.." He panted for breath. "Dang it.."

Dusty took his wrist to check his pulse. "It's okay. It's the heat stroke, just try to breathe normally.. we got a chopper coming to take both of you out for treatment." He held up the comm unit. "Dusty here, ETA on that medical evac?"

Lifeline's concerned voice came through clearly. "Ten minutes ETA, give me symptoms.." Dusty ran down everything, while he was wetting down a bandanna to give each of them. "Make sure they're not vomiting up the water you give them.. it's not cold is it?"

Dusty sounded disgusted. "No of course not. They're just sipping it too, but they need some iv fluids." He bent to look at BeachHead's blank stare. "Beach? Hey.." He clicked the comm again. "Beach just passed out.." He was blinked at. "Sorry.. false alarm... he's awake again."

"I'm havin' a bad day.." Dusty grabbed his shoulder and shook it. Beach turned to CoverGirl. "See? Never a kind touch.."

When they heard the rescue chopper approaching, they all got up to move that direction. CoverGirl and Beach had tugged on pants but left off anything else, although Dusty insisted on drenching the clothing they had on with water to help cool them a little bit. BeachHead continued to fade in and out. While they trudged across the sand to meet the chopper, BeachHead turned his head to say something to CoverGirl and suddenly collapsed in the sand with a loud 'snap'.

"Dang it!!" The cursing reassured the slender tank jockey that he was alert and aware. "I think I jus' broke my blasted ankle in the sand... son of a.... I can't believe this!"

Dusty bent to check him. "Take it easy.. you.. wow.. you really busted it." Beach struggled to sit up and looked with disbelief at his crooked ankle. "Sorry Sergeant major.. " They both ducked their heads, covering faces as the aircraft landed nearby and blew sand over them. Once the rotors slowed, the desert trooper shook his head, slinging sand off himself. "Here.. you need me to carry you?"

"No! Dang it.. I can walk.." Despite his protests, the Ranger needed Dusty's shoulder to move across the desert sands to the waiting helicopter. "Stupid blasted day.. I shoulda never got outa bed this mornin'. If that chopper goes down on the way to the Pit, I swear I'm gonna lose it!"

CoverGirl looked a little alarmed at the idea. "Wait.. the way his luck's been running.. we might all want to ride in another flight... "

"Very danged funny! VERY DANGED FUNNY!" BeachHead's snarl trailed off as he blinked back darkness again. Lifeline grabbed his arm and helped lift him on board. Dusty helped get him settled and handed CoverGirl into a seat.

Handing her the bundle of clothing and personal weapons, he gave her a quick pat to her shoulder. "You guys are in good hands now.. ya'll keep an eye on Beach though, heat stroke ain't nothing to shrug off." He hopped out and headed back to the wreckage to rejoin Cross-Country in the salvage of ammunition and the onboard computers. The rest would be dragged back to the Pit for disposal or parts removal later on by a clean-up team of greenshirts.

Lifeline knelt in front of her, grabbing onto the seat as they lifted off. "Hey.. look at me.." He flicked a bright light into her eyes, making her blink. "Let me check your pupils.. what's your name? What's today's date?"

She repeated the answers to standard questions, reassuring him as to her mental state. He took her temperature in her ear, making her rub it afterwards. "I hate it when you stick stuff in my ear!" He grimaced at the reading.

"You're over-heating.. I know.. you know that already.. but you're close to a dangerous level of it, so keep sipping your water.. I'm gonna start an iv on your arm.. it won't hurt much.. just a little poke.. you'll feel ten times better once I get you rehydrated." She shook her head stubbornly. "Look, it's going to get done, whether you want me to do it or not.. you don't get a vote, I'm the medic."

"Do Beach first.. he's worse off." She nodded over at the other passenger who was staring out the opposite open door with his eyes closed, enjoying the wind from their passage. "He needs it more than me."

Lifeline nodded. "I know.." He took her arm and tied a rubber tourniquet in place anyway. "He wants you to get done first, and assured me he won't fuss or fight with me if I get your iv started first, it's just more time efficient to go along than to fight with him. As bad a shape as he's in, he's too much of a handful for me to be wrestling in an open chopper. I'm a combat medic, but I can't fly.. and I have no desire to try to replicate SnakeEyes' dramatic landing without a parachute. I'm no ninja."

While he was amusing her with his reasoning, he'd already gotten the needle inserted into a vein. "Your veins are starting to collapse, because you're dehydrated.. I want you to keep your arm just like this.. don't bend it.. don't touch the iv or the tape.. got that? It's looking good now.. but I don't want to have to put another one in. One good poke with a needle is more than enough for one day, right?" She nodded, and watched him attach a bag of clear fluid and mess with all the dangley tubes. The bag was hung up on a hook over her head on the chopper wall. "Okay.. just sit.. keep sipping your water.. and if you start to feel like you're going to throw up.. do it towards the door, not on your favorite medic, okay? I'd appreciate it." He grinned at her as she nodded. If he was joking with her, she was reassured that she couldn't be in too bad of shape and relaxed. He stepped over to the drooping form of the Sergeant major and began the low shouts he'd used with her.

"Hello, hey.. look at me.. what's your name? What's today's date?"

BeachHead opened his eyes to peer at him. "Eleanor Roosevelt, and it's December forty-seven, four hundred and twelve BC, and the capital of Minnesota is 'M'. Shut up and put in my friggin' iv line."

"Hang on BeachHead.. I need to find my big huge dull needles.. wouldn't want you to not have something to gripe about.."

"Yeah, ya probably do carry some just fer me." His eyes slid away and he blinked rapidly. "I can't see..."

Lifeline had his arm extended, attempting to find a vein to use. "You're okay.. it's like tunnel vision.. is it clearing?"

"Yeah.. it comes and goes.. like fainting but not.. " He peered down at his arm. "Ow.. ow.. how many times are ya gonna stab me? CoverGirl only got one stab!"

"I'm going to stick your arm once for every time you made me run the obstacle course.. how's that?" Lifeline made another attempt, grimacing as the vein promptly collapsed as soon as the needle entered it. "You're so dehydrated, the veins can't support the iv line. I might have to hit your big neck veins instead. Let me try your other arm.."

"Yeah.. you would wanna stab me in the neck on a moving chopper.. probably take out my danged eyeball. Ow.." Beach suddenly tilted his head back and let it thump against the wall, letting out a sigh. His entire body relaxed slowly and Lifeline reached up to pinch the center of his upper lip without warning. "OW DANG IT!!" He woke up and swatted the air in front of him, missing the medic who already had hit the floor of the chopper. "DANG YOU!! That HURT!"

"Had to make sure you wouldn't lose consciousness.. do you really want to go into a coma?" Lifeline was already back up, capturing the errant arm and going right back to sticking his needle into veins. "Just sit still, but stay alert.. I don't need you passing out.."

"Sadistic bastard.." Beach looked at his arm. "Why am I bleeding again?" Lifeline ignored him to attach his tubes and bag of fluid. "Hey! You got one.. good fer you.. no neck pokings fer me."

"Yep.. just don't move your arm.. if that vein blows, I might have to stab you in the thigh to try to find your femoral.. or your neck.. so I suggest you hold it really still and let the fluid work on you.. here.." He picked up a cloth and poured water over it to wipe the man's face and torso, then handed it to him into the non-iv-laden arm. "Keep wetting your skin down, it'll act just like if you were sweating and start cooling you off. Your temperature is waaay high.. if we don't cool you down, you'll end up with brain damage.. not that I don't think you already have plenty of brain damage from all the other junk you get into.. but I'm pretty sure we should try to avoid letting you have any additional brain damage."

"Yer a jerk... just sayin'. How come we didn't find ourselves a nice polite medic?" BeachHead was still obeying the instructions even as he complained to Lifeline, their squabbling amusing CoverGirl immensely.

Lifeline reached up and patted his cheek before he could duck, smiling at him smugly. "You did get some nice polite medics, you just scared them all off with your PT, shouting and body odor. So you're stuck with me by your own actions. When you turn into a nice polite kind well-groomed drill instructor, then you can have sweet kind medics that will hold your hand and coo sweet nothings in your ear. Until then, you're stuck with me."

"What a prick.. hey Courtney?!" Beach turned his head towards her, but his eyes searched blindly again as his vision faded. "Hey.. didja jump out or are ya still with us?"

She grinned, looking at her iv to make sure she hadn't screwed it up accidentally. "I'm still here Beach.. I'm not leaving."

"Good.. did Dusty steal my danged .45? I didn't get it before we left." He blinked and focused on her. "Ahh.. there ya are.. you look good."

She laughed at him. "I have your guns, and thanks, you keep telling me that. I'm gonna think you've been ogling me or something." He blushed and turned his head away, examining the iv site. "I'm already feeling better.. these baggy things are great.. I should keep some in my room for when I feel bad.. just stab one in whenever I want."

"You would." He took a deep breath and turned his head as a gust blew sand in his doorway. Wiping his cloth over his face, he looked back at her. "I'm glad you'll be okay.. I was starting to worry about us in there. You know.. cause Dusty ain't all that great at prying open cans.. I've seen him struggle with a pop-top of coke.. much less a wrecked tank." He tucked his cloth aside to get the bottle of water and sip at it. "You do a really theatric scream for help when you're motivated."

CoverGirl swayed in her seat a little. "I was motivated, what can I say? It sure spurred those two guys to get us pried out, didn't it now?"

"It did that. Who wouldn't start getting frantic with you squealing like a frightened little girl just the other side of a few measly inches of metal?" His amused expression deepened. "That hatch didn't stand a chance. We should just be glad it wasn't TunnelRat outside, he'd have blown it open with C4, and we'd be shredded like taco lettuce."

Lifeline stepped back to BeachHead to kneel at his feet. The Ranger grinned down at him. "Now yer showing the proper respect..."

"Oh shut up! I'm going to wrap up your broken ankle.. oh.. this'll hurt by the way.. don't hit me or I'll have to do it twice.." Lifeline grasped his foot and tugged it straight, ignoring the loud yelp of pain. "Aww.. see? That wasn't so bad. Once I wrap it up tight, it'll feel better until Doc can finish setting it and put a cast on you."

"Sad-DIS-tic.. you really got issues Lifeline.. what happened to the kind pacifist medic that never wanted to inflict pain on any living thing?" Beach watched the bandaging.

"That kind little skinny medic met you.. that's what happened. At least I'm still nice to everyone else... right CoverGirl?" She nodded and Lifeline tugged the bandage a little bit more snug. "Okay.. how's that? Too tight?"

"No.. it's fine." The medic started to reach for his thigh bandage and Beach brushed his hand aside. "That's fine.. Courtney wrapped it for me. Leave it alone."

"I need to check it.." Lifeline's second attempt was brushed away as well. "Look you. You said you wouldn't fight with me if I treated her first.. were you lying? Sit still and let me look at it."

"I don't want you to! She did it up just fine." BeachHead let him remove the dressings anyway. "See? Now you done gone and made it bleed again, it wasn't bleeding before." He winced as Lifeline probed the ragged wound. "Ow.. stop messin' with it!"

"You're going to need this stitched up, but it's not too bad. I'll bet Doc lets you out of medical in only a couple of days." Lifeline paused. "On crutches of course."

"Crutches??? Are you nuts?" BeachHead pointed at the thigh wound which the medic was rebandaging. "Crutches for THAT??"

Lifeline pointed at his wrapped ankle. "No.. crutches for THAT. Or have you already forgotten you snapped your ankle too? Should I poke it for you to remember it's broken?"

"Oh." The sergeant major subsided. "I feel a lot better."

"You should.. the fluids will perk you right up, you'll be shouting at everyone like normal by the time we land. You'll still be overheated, and still need a lot of time to finish cooling down, but you'll FEEL better."

CoverGirl looked out her side of the chopper. "Hey!! There's command!" She waved out the door at the small figures. "Are we landing here?"

"Yeah, our medical evacuations are using Tomahawks, this rescue chopper is for field extractions. Lucky, we don't have many people to move this time and it's not that far to get back to the Pit." Lifeline reached to take her bag of fluids, much less full already, and handed it to her. "Carry this.. can you walk? I mean seriously.. I can get a stretcher.."

"I'm okay to walk.." Her legs were just a little wobbly as she got out, leaning on one of the greenshirts who rushed out to help her. She turned to check and saw Beach insisting on exiting the chopper on his feet rather than on a stretcher. Lifeline supported one side so he could hop on the good leg. "BEACH!! Stop being so STUBBORN!"

He shot her the bird and continued on his way, even as another greenshirt ran up to take his opposite side. She could hear him fussing at everyone within range.

She entered the tent of wounded and found a spot to sit. Her helper took the bag of fluid and attached it to a pole hanging from the tent supports. Lifeline pointed at her as he slowly helped BeachHead into a different area.

"Heat exhaustion, possible concussion, head laceration, check her for any other injuries, keep that iv going.. " He disappeared through a canvas doorway with his complaining sergeant major. CoverGirl sighed and laid back at the urging of one of the field nurses.

"Hey.. let's check you out.. you got way too hot.. you should have gotten out of the heat and been drinking more water."

The tank jockey scowled at her. "I couldn't, I was trapped in my danged MOBAT, so stop acting like I don't know to come in out of the rain or something." The nurse sighed at her. "Oh.. geez.. I'm sorry.. I've been trapped with BeachHead.. it must have rubbed off on me.."

"Well, that would irritate most anyone.. here.. drink this instead of plain water.." Given a bottle of half gatorade and half water, CoverGirl sipped at it and waited for her turn to leave.

When the commotion started, she sat up and looked around. A few greenshirts ran by, and the canvas of the tent shook suddenly, not as if a chopper landed, but more like a chopper landed ON it.

"What's going on??" She started to get up but one of the interns motioned her back down. "What is it? Are we under attack?"

"No.. everything is fine.. stay there. You'll pull the iv line out, so just stay put, people are taking care of it." When she glared at him, the intern shook his head. "Really, there's nothing you could do right now. The other smaller tent just went down, one of the main support lines snapped or something, and it collapsed."

She stared at him. "Oh good lord!! Is anyone hurt?"

"No.. it's all fine, we were using it for some of the more serious wounded, but they were all being evacuated first though." He motioned vaguely off to the canvas doorway that sagged crookedly now. "Luckily, everyone was already out except for one Joe.."

She suddenly grinned, he'd been right to wish he hadn't gotten out of bed, his luck hadn't improved just because he'd made it to the treatment area. "Oh, no... let me guess..."

He sighed ruefully. "Yes, of all folks to get caught in a tent collapse, we'll never hear the end of it.. the sergeant major was the only patient still inside. He's okay though, we can all clearly hear him cursing under the canvas.. they'll get him out really quick..."

She smiled and laid herself back down. "Poor Beach.. never a kind hand...."

* * * *

DONE. So that's BeachHead and CoverGirl trapped in a tank, poor BeachHead has to have bad days on rare occasions. I know, I took them a little bit past the actual trapped part.

Don't forget to suggest pairs(or trios) or situations(places) for trapping. I love reviews too. Lots and lots of reviews.


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